


Meld Together

by Ceminar



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 09:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3605631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceminar/pseuds/Ceminar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When two shut-in's are forced to move in together (No thanks to meddlesome moirails), each with their own unspoken problems, it's hard to tell how things will be handled, if they are at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meld Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [digimaniac33](https://archiveofourown.org/users/digimaniac33/gifts).



> I really suck at summaries and this was an interesting fill to complete. I hope it's to your liking!

Why this? Why fucking this?

That moirail of his. Sollux looked over his red and blue lenses at the person, the human in front of him. According to Aradia, it was time for the goldblood to get out of that grimy respiteblock of his, to meet new people, to meet humans, face to face instead of trolling them from the comfortable, familiar darkness.

Which is to say, she signed him up to be this guy's new hivemate. How fucking joyous. It made him almost wish he could hear the cries of the soon to be deceased as frequently as he used to before the game was finally beaten. Mother fucking shenanigans, leading to getting his vision and everything back, as well as some slight control over it all.

At least that was his deal. But, back this sack of meat that Sollux could only assume looked half as displeased behind those moronic shades as he felt. What had he gained or lost because of that abomination he would rather not call a game? Were his eyes bloodshot and heavily bagged under dark, pointed lenses? Was he as scrawny as his new hivemate under the oversized black hoodie sporting an orange cap? His face, or what could be seen of it, was gaunt. But that was all that could be told as they nodded, standing aside for the troll to enter.

Dirk, he said his name was, voice sounding strained, like he wasn't used to talking to others. Maybe he wasn't, who knew? Who cared? Sollux was only doing this to appease his moirail, maybe he was doing the same? Either way, he just wanted to get this over with. Dirk made the tour quick. Kitchen, front room, a door plastered with 'Keep out' signs that he explained was his, a second one labeled 'Workshop', and finally, the only open door beside the bathroom.

Sollux's room. Already, his double recoupacoon stood in the corner, the scent of sopor subtle but there, clearly mixed too strong but who was complaining? He needed it, honestly, for when he actually slept. Everything else of his was carefully packed away in boxes, his set up, clothes, boxes of his favorite junk that he shouldn't put in his body nearly as frequently as he does. With a mumbled thanks, he set out to unpack, closing the door behind him and leaving the human out in the hall.

Not like he offered to help anyway. Almost as soon as they had shown him to the room, he stepped back, only lingering as if to make sure the other was content that no boxes were missing. Before the door was even fully closed, he was gone.

 

The 'moving in' process was simple. It was getting situated that took hours. By the time the troll had his computer set up and anything deemed important enough to unpack first day, the ghostly pale Earth moon was already sinking, signaling that it was time for any troll with a lick of sense in their pan to start preparing to hit the slime. But not him. With the shutters pulled down and a mental note to check for tinting come evening again, Sollux sat himself in front of the husktop, leg folded under him as he booted it up and-

Searching for router to connect to? Oh, what bullshit. With an angry huff, he pushed away from the desk, spinning a bit until he came to a stop. Connect to the router? Where the hell was the rink a dink little shit then? Could ask the roommate, but weren't humans normally sleep by this time? With another swear, he stood, stretching before heading to the door. 

If Dirk or whoever noticed him, then they just weren't sleeping hard enough. How could they? Those beds didn't look all that comfortable. Knock off piles. Maybe pile starters if you were nice about it, but sorely lacking the sweet, medicinal, daymare drowning embrace of the slime.

For a split second, Sollux was reminded of when he could slip into that embrace as easily as he could manipulate his short tempered friend into blowing up his own computer when they were younger. Now, it was a struggle to get comfortable in the sopor, let alone sleep. However, the shuttle beetle of thought was cut off when his roommate was nearly run into with a barely swallowed, embarrassing squeak.

The hell was he still up for? The question isn't asked aloud, but the point is gotten across by a raised eyebrow, the motion returned from behind dark, triangular shades. Dirk said something about not being able to sleep, and Sollux could somewhat sympathize. The human seemed to know what the Captor was after as well, and simply waved for him to follow, the two of them entering the room labeled 'Workshop' together.

The sight on the other side of the door could only be described as chaotic. Tools were strewn about on the work surface, across the floor, even, he spied, embedded into the walls with such force even Zahhak would be impressed. There were parts as well, metal chassis with wires pouring out, what looked like crushed circuit boards. The only things that were whole, that were completed, were the cloaked figure in the corner, another with a backwards cap hiding behind it. Both were covered in a thin layer of dust, as if they were recently decommissioned. It was... eerie... Wrong.

Pupiless eyes tracked the others movements as they reached for the top of a shelf, pulling down the damnable router. The information was exchanged easy enough, and Sollux was never happier to leave that place, those... feelings. To return to his own little hole. To his programs and viruses, adding to his Unfinished folder on nights he couldn't be bothered to leave the block, on days he couldn't make himself comfortable enough to sleep.

The move didn't change much. He was still a shut in, mostly communicating through Trollian when his moirail or his favorite shoutpole didn't visit him personally. As for Dirk... well, Sollux got to meet his bubbly friend, caught glimpses of their relationship, how she handled him, how it reminded the troll of his moirail, how, when she left, she always had a small, hopeful smile. How those nights, the clattering and crashing from the Workroom weren't nearly as bad.

Time ticked on. Nearly a sweep after moving in, after growing used to each other from opposite sides of closed doors and little reminders, both to themselves and each other, there was a change. The first change. A knock. A request for help with something. Sollux was good with programming, right? Dirk wanted him to check something in the Workroom. Bare feet padded from one room to the next, replacing junk food wrappers and instant meal packaging for scrap metal and wires. The room was in better condition, at least. The walls were full of holes, but nothing that shouldn't be there was stuck in them.

This time, there was no random bits and pieces splayed about. The figures in the corner had been relocated. The larger one, Sawtooth, he introduced, stood still as ever at the side, as if overlooking the operation. On the slab this time was Squarewave, chassis open and circuit board exposed. Dirk needed him to run a check. The two had been out for so long... well, better safe than sorry.

Better safe than sorry...

Dirk Strider was asking for help. That was a step, wasn't it? That's what she would say. Sollux looked from the board, then to the hivemate he rarely spoke to, and shrugged. Simple enough shit. No problem at all. That was the first time he had seen the other crack the barest of smiles, felt them relax ever so slightly. By sunrise, the little guy was back to business. The next night, the tall one was doing his thing as well.

But Dirk and Sollux didn't celebrate. That wasn't their way. There were thanks, mutters of ways to improve this or that. They grew closer, in a way. Comfortable. Another sweep, come and gone, and their rooms were in better shape than before. A station was set up in the Workroom for Sollux, parts and tools were never too far out of place, and instead, the occasional take out container or soda bottle littered the floor. A small cot took up a wall now, for when one of the two required sleep. Working together like this... it had done a lot for them. If Dirk got frustrated, Sollux would send him to bed, promise he could figure it out after cooling his jets. If Sollux suffered from a mood shift, Dirk would distract him with shitty raps or tales of his big brother. They were shit, honestly, but... it worked.


End file.
